Text Me Baby One More Time
Page 22
Even though you hated me through it all, I need to thank you for that.
So. Yeah. Thank you.
Text me.
910-555-1027
Captain America Apologizes: Part Three
Bucky,
I’m sorry for all those times you had to see me walking across campus holding the hand of another girl.
Mostly, though, I’m sorry that girl wasn’t you.
Text me.
910-555-1027
Captain America Apologizes: Part Four
Bucky,
There’s a huge part of me that doesn’t want to apologize for punching that guy over the way he was talking about you, but you were right—I used that as an excuse for really bad behavior. I’m a grown adult. I know better than to swing at someone like that.
That’s not who I want to be.
I want to be better than that.
I want to be worthy of you.
(Btw, I’m not sorry for wanting that either.)
Text me, one more time.
910-555-1027
Captain America Apologizes: Part Five
Bucky,
I’m sorry for not saying sorry before I did.
I’m sorry for not being the man you thought I was.
I swear, he’s still in here.
If you give me the chance, I can prove it to you.
Text me.
910-555-1027
Captain America Apologizes: Part Six
Bucky,
They won’t let me buy any more ad space. (You really need to talk to them about this.) So I only have one more shot at this.
I’ve apologized for many things over the last few days, but there’s one thing I can’t and never will be sorry for.
Loving you.
I love you, Buck. More than you can ever imagine. I know I’ve sucked at showing it over and over again, but that doesn’t change how I feel.
I love you. I never stopped loving you. I always will.
End of the line, Bucky. End of the line.
Text me, Bucky. Please. Just one more time.
910-555-1027
P.S. Steve misses you.
THIRTY-FIVE
Present day
Denver: Okay. You have my attention.
Shepard: Thank fuck.
Shepard: It was Steve, wasn’t it?
Denver: Duh.
Shepard: Do you know how many dick pics I got? So. Many. I never want to look at another penis again.
Denver: Do you do that a lot? Look at penises?
Shepard: Well hell, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?
Shepard: I meant, like, my own. I don’t even want to look at my own penis.
Denver: Your poor, poor three inches.
Shepard: I miss you.
Denver: I know you do.
Shepard: This is when you say, “I miss you too, Shep.”
Denver: Oh, it is?
Denver: Fine. I miss you too, Shep. A lot.
Shepard: Are you still pissed at me?
Denver: Yes.
Denver: But I don’t think that’s going to go away soon. I think I’m going to be mad for some time, and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean I can push all the other feelings I have toward you away too.
Shepard: I meant every word I said in the paper.
Denver: I believe you.
Denver: How did you know I’d even see it?
Shepard: Um, because you WORK at the paper. Duh.
Denver: You do know I don’t read the entire thing, right?
Shepard: You don’t?
Denver: No. Blew Allie’s mind too.
Shepard: Is she how you found out about it then?
Denver: Yes. She reads it for the missed connections crap. She has me addicted to them now too.
Shepard: I could kiss Allie right now.
Denver: Can you please stop trying to make out with my best friend?
Shepard: I would if I had someone else to make out with…*wink*
Denver: The winking was redundant. I totally got that you were talking about yourself.
Shepard: Oh.
Shepard: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Denver: I didn’t think it was possible, but he got cuter.
Shepard: Thank you. I get that a lot.
Denver: I obviously meant Steve.
Denver: But I appreciate you trying to include yourself in that picture.
Shepard: Just wanted you to see what you’re missing.
Denver: Yes, an adorable pug. I can see that.
Shepard: I even miss your sass. Is that wrong?
Shepard: Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t care.
Shepard: Seriously, though, Den—when can I see you? The last two galas weren’t any fun without you. Penny is a pitiful date. She doesn’t tell a single person about my small dick. It’s so not embarrassing and it’s weird.
Denver: I don’t know, Shep…
Shepard: Can I take you on a date?
Shepard: Not to the movies. Clearly we can’t be trusted there. Or in any dark spaces, for that matter.
Denver: I…yeah. I think I’d like that.
Shepard: Okay. Be ready in twenty.
Denver: Twenty minutes?! You’re crazy!
Shepard: Only about you.
Denver: It is nearly 11PM. I am NOT going on a date at 11PM.
Shepard: You are too.
Denver: SHEP!
Shepard: I’m not joking. I’m putting my shoes on right now.
Shepard: Be ready.
Denver: And if I’m not?
Shepard: You will be.
THIRTY-SIX
DENVER
I’VE NEVER BEEN SO nervous to hear knocking on my door before, not even during college when Allie and I threw a crazy party and the cops were called.
That’s nothing compared to Shep knocking on my door right now.
I pull it open and am met with the most unexpected sight.
“Steve!”
I grab the puppy from Shep’s outstretched hands and snuggle him close. The pug licks happily at my face, and it’s the cheeriest I’ve felt in weeks.
“Someone missed me,” I say to Steve.
“Yes, someone did,” Shep replies.
My eyes meet his for the first time in weeks, and it nearly knocks me backward.
There’s stubble lining his chin, like he hasn’t shaved in a couple days, and I have to say, it really works for him.
I don’t notice that I’ve reached for him until my fingers collide with the rough stubble.
I pull away quickly, trying to compose myself.
“I, uh, I like that. It suits you.”
“Yeah?” He runs a hand over the shadow. “Good. I was thinking of keeping it.”
“You should.”
He nods, smiling. “Then I will.”
“God, this is awkward.”
“It is, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He rakes his eyes over me, taking in my outfit, which is eerily similar to the one I was wearing that night in the grocery store, only this time I’m actually wearing a bra. “You, uh, ready for our date?”
“If you’re about to hate on my outfit, I will strangle you.”
“Ah, there’s my asphyxiation-loving girl.”
“Shepard…” I warn.
“What? I’m not saying a thing.” He presses his lips together. “Come on, we’re working on a tight schedule here.”
“A tight schedule for our impromptu date at 11PM.”
“Technically,” he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket and glancing at the screen, “it’s only 10:45.”
“You are so annoying.”
“You love it. Let’s go.”
Grumbling, I follow him out the door, not bothering to grab my purse because he is so paying for this entire date.
We make our way out of my building and I follow him down to his truck.
He pauses outside my door and turns to me. “I know it’s kind of cliché, but it’s all I could find this
late at night.”
“Okay…” I say, stretching the word out.
He pulls open the door and sitting on the seat is not one, not two…not even three, but five dozen red roses.
“What in the ever-loving fuck, Shep? That’s a lot of money.”
He shrugs. “I had to get you a dozen for every year I wasted.”
“I… Hell, I have no idea what to say.”
“Then don’t say a thing.” He slides Steve from my arms and opens the back door, where he then deposits the pup onto the bed that’s sitting back there. “You know what they mean, right?”
I look up at him. “Yes, Shep, I do.”
He nods once. “Good. Now get in. Time crunch.”
I gather up the flowers and pull them to my nose, loving the way they smell, then haul myself into the cab. It’s difficult maneuvering around with all the flowers in the way, but it’s worth it.
Red roses mean true love.
Cliché, but still absolutely breathtaking.
The car ride is silent, and for the first time in a really long time with Shep, it’s a comfortable silence, the kind of comfortable I’ve always craved when it came to him.
It’s sad that it’s taken us so long to get to this point.
“What are we doing here? They close in like ten minutes,” I say as we pull into the lot at Smart Shoppe.
“Told you we were on a time crunch.” He turns the truck into a parking spot but doesn’t shut the ignition off. “Stay here. Last time we came here, I had to carry your ass all the way across the parking lot, and I am not doing that again.”
“So rude, but I’ll wait here—only because it’s annoying to have to get out of the car with all these flowers, and someone needs to watch Steve.”
“See? I’m so smart. Be right back.”
He takes off jogging into the store, and I occupy myself with trying to arrange the flowers better so I’m not so cramped.
He returns with two full bags of stuff, and the store lights dim as he approaches the car.
“Boom. Made it.” Shep tosses his bags into the back then climbs back behind the wheel.
“What’d you get?”
“Ice cream.”
“What kind of ice cream?”
“Our favorite.”
Our.
Even though he’s just talking about ice cream, the word makes my heart skip a beat.
I like the way it sounds. I like the way Shep and I sound together.
I wasn’t lying when I told him I was still mad at him, but Delia was right: I can be mad at him and want to be with him all in the same breath, and that’s okay.
Shep pulls out of the parking lot and takes a left then another left two stops up.
I laugh when he pulls into a fast food joint, because I know just what he’s up to.
He steers the truck to the drive-thru and rolls his window down.
Pointing at me, he says, “Don’t you dare try to order any of that fancy stuff. Dollar menu only for you.”
“I want two orders of spicy chicken nuggets, a large fry, and a vanilla milkshake.”
“I already got us ice cream.”
“Oh, the milkshake is for you. It’s cute that you think I’m sharing that ice cream.”
Smirking, he shakes his head and places my order for me, adding on a double cheeseburger and large fry for himself.
When we get through the line, Shep parks in the lot and motions for me to get out.
I grab Steve and his bed from the back then make my way to the bed of the truck, where Shep is already laying out a blanket for us to sit on.
We climb on up, our feet dangling comfortably off the back just like after the first gala we attended, and we dig into our food.
There’s no conversation as we eat, because we don’t need it.
We’re content.
After we finish nearly all the greasy goodness, Shep busts out the pints of ice cream, lining up all our favorite flavors.
“They only had one spoon,” he says, holding it out to me.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Uh huh. How convenient.”
“Guess we’re just gonna have to…share.”
“If I didn’t have your cooties already, I’d complain.” I snatch the lone utensil from his hand and scoop out a bite of mint chocolate chip. “But I guess since you bought me all this deliciousness, I’m gonna let it slide.”
“You? Don’t you mean us?”
There it is again, that skip.
“I like that thought…us,” I admit quietly before shoving the spoon in my mouth to stop myself from saying anything else.
“I do too.” Shep sighs heavily. “I meant everything I said in those ads, Den.”
“You already said that.”
“I know, but I really need you to know I meant everything. You have no idea how sorry I am. You were right—I do hold on to the past. I don’t think, I just react, and I make excuses for that. I shouldn’t do that. It’s not fair.”
“It’s really not,” I tell him. “Especially when you hurt so many people in the process.”
“I don’t want to be that person anymore.”
“Then don’t be.”
“Is it really that easy?”
“Yes,” I say emphatically. “You know, Delia told me she thinks I make you a better person.”
“You do.”
“I don’t agree,” I argue. “I think you’re always a good person. You’re just afraid to let people see that side of you, because you’re scared they’ll like you…and then leave you. So, you push them away before they can like you, because you’re scared of heartbreak.”
“Aren’t we all?” he questions.
“Sure, but some of us are ballsy enough to face it anyway.”
He chuckles. “Always gotta bring my balls into it, huh?”
“Well, if you’d actually use ’em once in a while…”
He shakes his head, trying hard not to laugh, because he knows I’m right.
He hops down from the truck bed and moves toward me, pushing himself between my legs. Cupping my face, he draws all my attention to him.
“Look, Den,” he says, his soft hazel eyes holding my own. There’s such sincerity in them that I can’t imagine ever looking away. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about what I did to Delia. That wasn’t cool of me to hide it. I should have been straightforward with you and honest about the mistakes of my past.”
“Anything else hiding in that closet of yours?”
“No. That was it. Clean slate from here on out.”
“Here on out, huh? You say that like we have a future.”
For the first time ever, Shep looks sheepish, and a blush creeps up his cheeks.
I lied before.
This is my favorite version of Shep—humble, vulnerable.
“I’d like us to, Den.” He whispers the words, so quietly I can barely him, but I do.
My heart skips another beat, or that final thin layer of protection around it shatters—I can’t tell which.
All I know is I’m ready.
To say yes. For a future. For us.
“I’d like us to, too.”
His face lights up. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
He closes his eyes, resting his forehead on mine and letting out a relieved sigh. “I’m going to do so much better this time. I’m going to be worthy of you.”
“You already are worthy of me, Shep.” I put my hands on his face, holding him to me. “You already are.”
“I’m not, Den.” He shakes his head. “You know I’m not, but I’m going to change that. I love you.”
My lips curl into a smile at his words.
“Say that again.”
“I love you.”
“Are you sure?”
His lips capture mine in the softest kiss he’s ever given me.
I feel hopeful. I feel good. I feel like we’re going to make it this time.
He pulls away and I look up at him. He’s smiling do
wn at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and I know whatever he’s about to say, it’s going to make me love him even more.
“Yes, Bucky, about 9% sure.”
Laughing, I say, “I’ll take those odds with you.”
“You know you’re stuck with me now, right?”
“I know, but I’m only in it for the pugs.”
“Until the end of the line?”
“The very end.”
COMING SOON
Loved this romcom from Teagan Hunter?
Be sure to add her next romcom coming in 2019 to your Goodreads TBR!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For those who don’t know, I never set out for Let’s Get Textual to turn into anything other than a standalone romantic comedy for my newsletter. But once I started writing Zach and Delia, I couldn’t stop…and I had to share them with just more than my newsletter readers. I was scared, nervous as hell because although I enjoyed writing books with a little more heart to them, I always wanted to write romcoms because I love to laugh. I wanted to be that author who made readers laugh. But I never felt like I could. I didn’t think you would “get” my sense of humor. That I wouldn’t be funny or good enough for you.
But you…you proved me wrong.
Not only did you devour and recommend and make Let’s Get Textual into something I never thought It would be, you wanted more. More from these characters and their friends. You embraced them. Every single one—flaws and all. You did this. You made this series what it is. And you let me become the author I always wanted to be.
I can never, ever repay you for that.
So, thank you. Thank for taking a chance on Zach and Delia and Marshy. For allowing me to bring you into this new and kind of crazy world with this funky cast of characters.
Thank you for allowing me to make my dream a reality.
With love and unwavering gratitude,
Teagan
OTHER TITLES BY TEAGAN HUNTER:
Here’s to Tomorrow
Here’s to Yesterday
Here’s to Forever: A Novella
Here’s to Now
We Are the Stars
If You Say So
Let’s Get Textual
I Wanna Text You Up
Can’t Text This
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